


Kink Four: Orgasm Denial

by ChasingRabbits, thepinupchemist



Series: Cas and Dean’s Excellent Kink-venture [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Dean gets cuddles, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Fluff and Smut, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Power Bottom Castiel, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sub Dean, Surprises, Switching, Top Castiel, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 13:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1650062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingRabbits/pseuds/ChasingRabbits, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepinupchemist/pseuds/thepinupchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, going through their kink list doesn't turn out the way that they expect it to.</p>
<p>But that doesn't mean that the experience doesn't turn out for the better, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kink Four: Orgasm Denial

They barely make it out of the Roadhouse before Ellen starts shooing Dean and Cas to the Impala with a snap of her bar rag and her chiding voice telling them that if they feel the need to grope each other, then they should keep it in the privacy of their own bedroom and certainly not in the middle of a bar on a Friday night. Sam seemed to agree, though Jess (who, being pregnant, stuck to coke for the duration of the evening) laughed at Dean when the beers started getting to his head and his hand slipped under Cas’ shirt.

Because, come on. Cas has nice things under there.

Castiel, being the more sober of the two of them, drove them back to their apartment building. They did not, however, make it to the privacy of their own bedroom before they were on each other like animals. They made it about halfway into the apartment before Chuck threw a book at them and told them to knock it off, upon which they switched gears, closed the apartment door, and latched onto each other again.

Dean heaves Cas up, pressing him further back into the wall while he strokes his tongue inside his mouth, enjoying the taste and smell of Cas invading his senses. Castiel automatically wraps his legs around Dean’s waist and presses further into the embrace.

They both break apart to moan when Dean rolls his hips up against Cas and their hard cocks slide together through the thick denim of their jeans. Shit. Dean needs more, and he needs more now. He thrusts up harder against Cas’ body and starts to work up a rhythm, rutting while he kisses and bites at the sensitive skin of Cas’ neck.

“Dean,” Cas sighs, “Dean, if you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.”

“No, you won’t,” Dean says, and his lips quirk up on one side, “Because you’re not going to come until I let you tonight.”

Cas gapes bug-eyed at him before a thirsty expression clouds his face. Dean loves when Cas looks at him that way, like he hung the moon. Dean reaches down between them, keeping one palm braced against the wall to hold them steady, and palms along the hard ridge of Cas’ erection.

“Fuck,” Cas says, and throws his head back against the wall with an impatient whine.

Dean nuzzles against Cas’ jaw, stubble scraping against his skin, and mouths at the curve of his ear before he suggests lowly, “Baby, I think we need a bed for the next part.”

Cas lets out a breathless little laugh and agrees, “Yes. I think so.”

Dean lets Cas down from being pinned against the wall and they each stumble to tear off their socks and shoes on the way to the bed. Dean almost trips over himself and starts to laugh when he lands on the bed above Cas, limbs boxing him in. The flush is high on Cas’ cheeks, eyes glazed over with need. It’s amazing how fucked-out he looks already, and damn, Dean is going to have fun with this.

Granted, he’s still a little nervous about being the one in control, but he feels like they’ve done enough research to get the ball rolling on this orgasm denial thing. Dean wets his lips and reaches down between them to stroke the back of one finger up over Cas’ erection.

And maybe he gets a little devilish grin when Cas’ head smacks back against the pillows, and he lets out a low, needy whine.

Dean sits back on Cas’ thighs and wraps a hand around him, starting off with a few languid, casual strokes. He’s already rock hard and leaking into Dean’s fist. Muscles undulate under Cas’ beautiful tan skin, a sheen already covering his chest and torso. God, they smell like booze and sawdust, all mixed in with musk and sex and sweat, and it puts fuel in Dean’s tank like nobody’s business.

Cas wriggles underneath him,  trying to get more leverage, more friction, more something.

“You’re not very patient,” Dean remarks, head still swimming, words still slurring together ever so slightly.

Cas lets out a huff and pouts up at him, and Dean grins.

“Fucker,” Cas swears when Dean lets him go and rolls off to the side to grab their lube and a condom out of Cas’ nightstand.

And then he’s struck by an idea.

A brilliant idea.

He sets the lube and condom by Cas’ head and rolls over to his side of the bed.

“Circus acrobatics was not on the list of kinks,” Cas points out.

“Hold your water,” Dean attempts a swipe at him, and misses.

Out of his own nightstand he pulls out a piece of sleek black silicone, and he hears Cas let out a frustrated groan.

“You better not be touching yourself,” Dean bounces back to him.

“‘m not,” Cas wriggles in his spot.

“Good,” Dean sticks out his tongue and settles between Cas’ legs, pushing them apart and taking in the amazing sight of his boyfriend all spread out in front of him, so gorgeous and so willing.

Dean dips down and licks a long, thick line from the base of Cas’ erection to the very tip, and Cas swears.

“Gonna come if you don’t stop,” he warns, and Dean backs off.

He grabs the lube and cracks the top, coating his fingers as he flashes Cas a grin. On either side of Dean’s head, Cas’ legs tremble with anticipation. Damn, if he’s so eager already, how is he going to handle it when Dean brings him to the brink and then pulls him back down again? Dean doesn’t know, and that there is half the fun of it. Carefully, he slides one finger into Cas to the first knuckle.

“Dean…” Cas grits out with a tone of warning.

“Shh,” Dean replies, “I’m working.”

Even though he isn’t looking, Dean is pretty sure that Cas rolls his eyes. Since he’s so comfortable...Dean slides his finger out and promptly replaces it with two fingers, thrust all the way in, pressing up against that little bundle of nerves inside Cas. Above him, Cas throws his head back against the pillows and curses, “Fuck.”

“Not so cocky now, are we?” Dean murmurs.

Castiel replies, “I don’t know, Dean. There’s a lot about this situation that seems cocky to me.”

Dean snorts, grinning against Cas’ thigh before he presses a chaste kiss to the skin there and starts to work his fingers inside of Cas, pumping and scissoring and stretching. While one hand moves inside of Cas, Dean moves his other to run his knuckles over the length of Castiel’s erection in a barely-there, teasing stroke. A rumbling whine tears out of Cas’ throat and oh, yeah, Dean can definitely dig this.

He keeps the touch consistent -- the hard, strong touches that Cas craves he keeps to inside of him, strumming against his prostate, while the feather-light touches are on his cock, never enough friction for Cas to get what he wants. A sheen of sweat coats Cas’ forehead already, and his breaths come hard and heavy.

Dean withdraws to add more lube to his fingers and then presses a third finger in with the other two. He won’t open Cas as much as he’d need to take Dean, just enough to take the slim vibrator that still sits temptingly beside them on the bedspread. Cas tries to ride into Dean’s hand and take him in deeper, but Dean holds him down, using the strength of his arm to keep Cas’ hips pinned.

When Dean is satisfied with the job that he’s done on Cas’ ass, he reaches for the vibrator and gives it a solid coat of the lube, making it slick and shiny and ready to use. At first, he just teases the head of the toy against Cas’ open hole, starting to slip the tip inside and then pulling it out before Cas can get any real satisfaction.

“You’re a cruel man,” Cas complains, and gulps in air when Dean slides the vibrator inside of his body, though only to half the length. There, he presses the power button and then opts for the lowest setting. The gentle hum of the toy fills the room, and with it comes a tiny, frustrated whimper from Cas.

“You have to tell me when you’re close, baby,” he says, and moves to rub a hand over Cas’ belly.

Cas gives a frantic nod, and with that, Dean pushes the rest of the toy inside Castiel. Cas makes a muffled, tortured noise, which obviously means that he needs more. Dean turns the vibrator up one setting, and then reaches to stroke his fingertips over Cas’ cock gingerly and slowly.

“D-Dean,” Cas says, “I’m -- I’m gonna --”

So Dean withdraws completely, vibrator from ass and hand from cock. He orders, “Up. Hands and knees.”

The time it takes Cas to move to the new position brings him down from the edge of his orgasm, but he’s still so turned on that he’s shivering with the need to come. It’s just about the hottest thing that Dean has ever seen in his entire life.

With a hard swallow, Dean reaches for more lube and re-slicks his fingers. His hands tremble and, fuck all, he has to give himself a squeeze before he plunges his fingers back into Cas.

He presses his fingers into Cas’ prostate, earning him a soft whine as Cas rocks his hips back onto his hand. Dean then reaches around and wraps his free hand around Cas’ cock.

“Jesus,” Cas fists their sheets, buries his face in their duvet. Dean doesn’t bother with a slow build on this one, just goes hard and fast until Cas is whining and swearing and “fuckfuckfuck” before he pulls back again.

“God damnit!” Cas growls, and before Dean really knows what’s happening, Cas has him flat on his back, pressed into the bed. He’s so desperate that he doesn’t even bother with the condom, just grabs Dean by the base and sinks down onto him in one fluid movement.

“Holy shit,” Dean gasps, body finally going lax with relief at being sheathed inside Cas. He’s pretty sure that this is not a part of the edging game, but try telling Cas that when he’s got that feral look in his eyes. “Baby, that’s--”

“Shut up,” Cas moans and pins Dean’s shoulders to the bed. “Fuck, you feel so good, Dean. I love how you fill me up.”

Dean can’t do anything but whine in response. Cas fucks himself hard and fast on Dean’s cock then, the bed springs squeaking in protest, the headboard knocking repeatedly into the wall. It’s all Dean can do to hang on for the ride.

It’s no surprise that Cas comes first, his eyes squeezing shut and his nose scrunching up, his fingernails digging into Dean’s biceps as he shoots all over Dean’s torso. The color is high up in his cheeks, his eyes glazed over and his smile blissful.

God, Cas looks good like this.

“You wanna come too?” Cas’ lips twist then into a crooked grin, and Dean nods.

Cas tightens around him and leans back, pinning Dean’s legs to the bed as he pistons his hips. Dean’s orgasm is soon to follow, hitting him with alarming force as he thrashes under the restraint of Cas’ hands.

The next breath he lets out feels like the first he’s had in ages.

“That didn’t go as planned,” Dean laughs.

Cas laughs too, pressing a damp kiss to Dean’s temple. Both of them lie back and relax to catch their breath, blown away by the non-success of this particular sexual exploration. Cas threads his long fingers back through his sweaty, dark hair and says, “I suppose I thought that I would like that more than I did. Mostly I just got more and more frustrated, and not in the good way.”

“Well, not every kink is gonna work out,” Dean reasons with a shrug, “...maybe we’ll put a ‘no’ on that one and try something else later.” It only occurs to Dean now that his head is still heavy with the weight of drinking too much at the Roadhouse, and that with the amount of fluid he’s lost in the last hour or so that he’ll be hungover for sure if he doesn’t do something.

“Stay here,” Dean says, and kisses Cas’ stubbly cheek, “I’mma be back.”

Naked, he pads into the kitchen and fills a couple of glasses with some tap water, and then after a beat of thought snags their jar of peanut butter and two spoons. There. Effortless anti-hangover. Peanut butter should sit nice on his stomach.

When Dean slips back into their bedroom, Cas has his eyes closed and looks otherwise completely wrecked and fucked-out on a level that Dean hasn’t seen before. Maybe this is a good time for Dean to do his part with some aftercare too, especially since edging Cas didn’t work out like they both thought that it would. So, he sets their waters (one having been carefully balanced on the lid of the jar of peanut butter) on the nightstand on Cas’ side of the bed and climbs over his body.

“Baby, you can’t fall asleep on me,” Dean tells him.

“Hnngmmff,” Castiel replies.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean says, “Open your eyes. I’ve got water and peanut butter.”

This gets Cas’ attention. At first, Dean thought it kind of weird that Cas ate peanut butter directly from the jar without putting anything in it, but after such a long time cohabiting, Dean has picked up the habit too -- mostly because he knows it’s great at staving off hangovers.

Cas opens his eyes, just barely, and Dean has to help him sit up, unscrewing the lid off of the jar of peanut butter for him, but not before instructing, “Drink some water before you start in on that. I’m gonna grab a towel and clean you up, okay?”

“Mm.”

Cas appears to have hit the point of communicating only in grunts.

So, Dean makes it quick. He grabs a washcloth and sticks it under the bathroom sink for a second, just long enough to get it good and wet, and returns to the bed, where Cas is revived enough to be sitting up and licking a spoon clean of peanut butter. Dean sidles up beside him and nudges Cas’ legs apart, only to be met with a whine of complaint.

“I know,” Dean says, and strokes his fingers over the back of Cas’ neck, “but you’ll regret it if we don’t at least get you a little cleaned up.”

So Cas lets Dean push his legs apart as much as he needs and watches Dean mop up come and sweat in between bites of peanut butter and sips of water. Dean finishes by getting the quickly-drying puddles of Cas’ own come on both their stomachs, and then throws the washcloth someplace in the direction of their laundry hamper. He’s not sure that he makes it.

Dean gets a couple of bites of peanut butter in for himself and makes sure to finish his water, but mostly he just runs his fingers through Cas’ hair and kisses his neck and tells him all the things that he loves about him.

Their kink didn’t play out as expected, but the night still ends on a happy, peaceful note.

**X**

Dean is almost done with his waffles on Saturday morning when Sam calls him all in a tizzy.

Apparently baby proofing is a lot more complicated than Sam originally thought, and after much persuasion (Dean is thinking Level C Blackmail) from Jess, he finally called Dean for some help. Sam never was too handy, never was interested in anything their old man had to offer in the way of skills. Dean supposes that’s why Sam’s got a cushy job right out of law school and Dean spends forty hours a week smeared with engine grease.

“And, uh,” Sam had dropped his voice, “Can you bring your toolkit?”

Dean arrives at Sam and Jess’ new digs twenty minutes later toolkit in one hand and a six pack in the other.  Sam grabs the toolkit and nods his thanks, before turning an infamous bitch-brow on the six-pack.

“Drinking on the job?”

“There’s something so perversely ironic about baby-proofing a house while intoxicated,” says Jess from behind him.

“They’re not for during, they’re for after,” Dean says, “Thanks for the vote of confidence though.”

Sam takes the beer and takes it back to the kitchen. Jess tosses her head, blonde curls bouncing, “Come on in.”

Dean steps inside. It’s still got a new house smell, with clean carpets and freshly painted walls. There isn’t much in the way of decorations set up yet, but the furniture is all in place at least. Jess takes him to the living room, where there is just a mess of baby proofing crap littering the floor.

“Wow, he wasn’t kidding,” Dean scratches the back of his head.

“Ugh, it’s been a nightmare,” Jess whispers. “I tried helping him but he was not having any of it.”

“I can hear you,” Sam snips from the kitchen.

“All day,” Jess throws up her arms. “This has been my day.”

“Whoa, okay,” Dean chuckles. “It’s all good, all right? I’m here, me’n Sammy’ll have this place babyproofed like that.”

He tries to punctuate it with a snap, but he’s not that great at snapping and it falls flat.

As it turns out, Dean has severely overestimated his ability to placate Sam. Even with Dean doing most, if not all, of the grunt work, Sam’s still wigging out.

So the Rod A into Slot B thing isn’t as funny as it was when they were kids, but it’s a solid joke and in no way warrants Sam griping back, “That’s not funny, Dean.”

“Dude, what the hell is your issue?” Dean finishes drilling part of the baby gate into the wall.

“Nothing,” Sam snaps.

“Yeah, then nut up and stop acting like such a fuckin’ baby,” Dean barks back. Sam gets still, and then he takes a deep breath in, holds it, and lets it out. Dean continues, “Now, I know this isn’t your bag, or whatever, but I’m here to help you.”

Sam lets out a sigh and hangs his head. “Sorry,” he mutters. “There’s just… way more to do before the baby gets here than I realized. And moving on top of it all has been a damn nightmare.”

“Well, you got like six months to go, right?” Dean shrugs. “I know that’s not a long time, but it’s enough time. And anything you need from me’n Cas, you know it’s yours.”

Sam nods, “Thanks.”

It by no means sounds sincere, but Dean lets it slide and goes back to the gate. They manage to get a little bit done before Jess comes in, wielding two paint swatches.

“Honey, did you give me two of the same paint swatches for the baby’s room?” she asks.

Dean stops the drill just as Sam says, “Are you kidding?”

“I don’t think she is, no,” Dean leans on the drill, chin on his hands, waiting.

“This is Cornflower,” Sam holds up Jess’ left hand. “And this is Blue Bonnet.”

“Wow, Sam,” Dean whistles. “You have somehow managed to out-gay me. And that is saying something, since I got bent over and spanked, and then had my ass fucked into the couch, all while wearing a pair of panties, just about a week ago.”

“Aw, dude!” Sam wrinkles his nose, just as Jess shakes her head and says, “That’s not that gay.”

Dean and Sam both look at her, Dean with more amusement, and Sam with more wariness.

“I could bend Sam over and spank him,” Jess shrugs. “And make him wear a pair of panties… and fuck him into the couch.”

“Ha! Awesome,” Dean grins as Sam’s eyes bug out. He knew there was a reason that he liked Jess -- and why she and Cas get along so famously.

Sam kvetches at them as they move their party to the kitchen to start putting these weird things on the cabinets so that the kid can’t get the doors open. Dean has to wonder why Jess and Sam need the entire house babyproofed when Jess is only three months into pregnancy and the squirt won’t be able to dick around much for the first couple months of life anyway...but then he figures he can attribute it all to Sam’s paranoia and insistence upon being over-prepared for anything and everything. (“It’s better to over-prepare than to under-prepare, Dean.” Blah blah blah)

“Speaking of panties,” Dean casually says, even though the topic was dropped at least twenty minutes ago.

“Smooth,” says Jess.

“Shut up,” says Dean, “Anyway, me n’ Cas have been trying out all this new stuff, right? And for the most part it’s been friggin’ awesome. I swear I have never had so many orgasms in my life. But we tried doing like, orgasm denial? Right. Anyway, Cas wanted me to try it on him and he did not turn out to like it as much we both thought. I wanna make up for it, you know?”

“You don’t have to make up for it as long as you stopped when he needed it,” Jess pointedly says.

“Yeah, but you know what I mean,” Dean says, “Botched experiment and everything.”

“Why don’t you just try it the other way?” Sam says, not looking at Dean, but at the baby lock that he appears to have mounted upside-down on the cabinet in front of him. He adds as an afterthought, “I mean, not that I want to give advice on this. Because seriously, Dean, come on, TMI.”

Dean eyes his brother and says, “I was pretty sure you already knew how babies are made. Otherwise Jess has some ‘splaining to do.”

“Oh, fuck you,” replies Sam, “I just don’t want to be haunted by the image of my brother wearing lingerie for the rest of my life. Sue me. I’m just saying, if you’re stuck on this one thing, why not try it out for yourself? Besides, if it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t work. And I don’t think Cas gives a shit that your weird bedroom crap didn’t go the way you guys thought it would. He thinks the sun shines out your ass and probably still would if you asked him to reenact German dungeon porn.”

“Jesus, Sammy, what kind of porn have you been watching?” Dean snorts.

“Smartass,” Sam mutters, “Just think about it, dude. And let’s not talk about anybody’s sex life for the rest of the day, okay? Okay.”

The baby-proofing continues without another word on Dean’s concern about Cas’ sex life. Instead, they talk about Sam and Jess’ thoughts on the baby. When Dean asks if they’re going to find out the sex soon, Sam primly responds that they’re waiting until the birth. Dean expects Jess to roll her eyes, but she just kisses Sam on the cheek. The gesture is more endearing than gross, and Dean finds himself glad that his brother has somebody as awesome as Jess to share himself with.

Share, like the way Dean shares himself with Cas.

He never thought that he’d have somebody to share himself with, to trust enough to give somebody a glimpse through the cracks in his armor.

Dean finds himself smiling at this thought through the rest of the work, and through splitting beers with his brother while Jess sips on some fancy pregnancy tea from the local Whole Foods. The smile lasts all the way through saying goodbye to Sam and Jess and the drive to Holy Grounds afterward.

Yeah, he’s definitely gonna suggest that they try the whole orgasm-denying thing again. So Cas isn’t into it, but who says Dean couldn’t be? He’s done weirder things, and hell, he’s liked those things. And he’s pretty sure Cas liked doing those weird things to him.

Huh… could work. It’s worth a shot.

**X**

 

Castiel hates middle schoolers with a fiery passion. It’s not enough that they have to pollute the world with their preteen hormones, they have to come into the shop, order the messiest pastries Gabriel has available, and then smear their messy little hands all over Castiel’s bookcases and, god, some of the books.

And then they laugh at him when he tries to chase them off.

He doesn’t care if it’s not right to call kids names, because these kids are damn fuckwads nowadays.

“You okay there, cranky pants?”

“Leave me alone, Gabriel,” Cas scowls as he tries to remove a chocolate thumbprint from the pages of a first edition Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

“Touchy,” Gabriel whistles. “Trouble en paradisio?”

“Bite me,” Cas mutters.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you,” Gabriel says. “That’s a really weird way to say, ‘wow, thanks for taking an interest in my life, big bro’.”

The bell above the door rings and in steps Dean. Cas was only set to work a half day today, but as he glances at his watch he sees that he’s still an hour and a half away from quitting time.

“Well, well,” Gabriel claps Cas on the shoulder. “Guess I gotta start calling you Zack Morris.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, and Castiel cocks his head. So, Gabriel explains, “‘cause you’ve been saved by the bell.”

Dean and Castiel share a look.

“Man, fuck you guys, that was solid,” Gabriel scowls. “Fine, I’ll return to the bridge under whence I came.”

He retreats back to the cafe brandishing two middle fingers, which less than amuses Castiel, but it’s just turning out to be one of those days, he supposes.

“You okay?” asks Dean.

“I have had an afternoon riddled with unfortunate events,” Cas explains. “I suppose you could say I’m a little pissy.”

Pissy is one of those delightful terms Castiel has picked up in his time with Dean. It’s the kind of word Castiel once frowned upon, that he thought was just a placeholder for those who didn’t have the vocabulary to accommodate the vast spectrum of human emotion.

Pissy sounds much better than moderately perturbed.

“You wanna take off early?” Dean asks.

Castiel heaves too heavy a sigh for the situation and shuts the book, fed up with trying to undo the damage.

“I would like to, I don’t know that I’ll be able to,” he says. “How are Sam and Jess?”

“Fine,” Dean shrugs back. “Sam’s kinda looney tunes about the baby coming, but he’s one card short of a full deck when it comes to that kinda thing. If the kid gets into the cabinets, the kid gets into the cabinets. I don’t see what the big deal is. Anything that’s poison’s got a childproof cap on it.”

“I’m sure Sam loved hearing all of that,” Castiel finds himself smiling.

“I didn’t tell him,” Dean laughs. “Jesus, I know I’m a drop-out, but I’m not stupid.”

Castiel’s smile broadens, his chest fills up with that warm, gooey sunshine that Dean has made him feel since the first time they met.

“You want me to come back and get you?” asks Dean. Honestly, Castiel might actually prefer that. Dean has that look in his eyes like he wants to discuss something, and Castiel is not up for discussing anything right now.

He knows it’s neither of their fault that their foray into edging didn’t work out, but he still feels bad about it. And what else would Dean want to talk about? He doesn’t exactly come to collect Cas an hour and a half early to have lighthearted chats about the weather.

“I don’t think I should--”

“Take him!” Gabriel calls, startling the lone woman sitting in the cafe. “Fuck’s sake, he’s driving me crazy.”

“Thanks, Gabriel,” Cas rolls his eyes.

“I really don’t think you should be using such harsh language in a public forum,” says the lone woman. Gabriel raises an eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t think you should be a judgmental fuckwad, but hey,” Gabriel snatches the half eaten crumb cake from her table. “I don’t run your life.”

“Classy,” Dean nods.

“Let’s just go,” Castiel sighs. “Gabriel, you’re in charge.”

“Cas, we’ve been over this,” Gabriel calls back. “It’s called a kitchen.”

“Wow, I can’t take it anymore,” Cas shakes his head and stands. “Please, if I hear one more witticism I’m going to disembowel him.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Well,” he says, “Can’t have that.”

Once they’re out in the car and pulling away from the curb, Dean asks again, “You sure you’re okay?”

What is he supposed to say, exactly? Their last experiment was a failure due in large part to him, and it’s just a little discouraging. Make no mistake, Castiel wasn’t exactly as pure as undriven snow when he and Dean met, but Dean was the first sexual partner he had that really drove him to explore.

Logically, he knows it’s not his fault for not liking the whole edging thing, but failure has never sit well with him.

“This isn’t about the other night, is it?” asks Dean.

Goddamn it.

“Cas, I had fun, okay?” Dean reassures him. “Did you?”

Castiel sighs, “During, yes, but in retrospect it’s a little disappointing that I couldn’t even manage to keep it together long enough to let you do whatever you were going to do.”

“Fuck you into the sunset,” Dean supplies.

“Yes,” Castiel says. “You keep yourself in control so well, it’s just frustrating to know that I apparently can’t.”

Dean says nothing for a few moments, just stares straight ahead at the car stopped in front of them. It’s not until they’ve started moving again that Dean pipes up again, “I mean, you keep it together pretty well in normal life.”

Castiel frowns, “How do you mean?”

“Well, the dude I met on the side of the road had just finished getting a degree in library sciences,” says Dean. “Everyone in your family is a bag of raisins away from being trail mix; you get pushed and pulled every which way trying to do what’s best for everyone. People gotta let loose somewhere, man… maybe you gotta do it in the bedroom.”

Castiel thuds back against the headrest. He’d never quite thought of it in that way before.

“So, would that mean that you submit so easily because you’re a wild, drinking, gambling, stark raving slut in real life?”

He looks over and sees Dean’s cheeks have gone a shade of pink.

“Interesting,” Castiel concludes.

“I think we should try it again,” Dean blurts out. Castiel blinks, but patiently awaits Dean’s explanation. Dean clears his throat and continues, “I think we should try it again, but reversed.”

Huh.

“Very interesting,” he says. He assumed he’d enjoyed the edging porn he’d found because he wanted to be edged, but come to think of it…

Come to think of it, he didn’t find the man being edged all that appealing, but the one doing edging himself.

To think of Dean sweating and panting on the bed, tied down so he can’t move, so he has to rely entirely on Castiel for release, just as the young man had in the video, already has Castiel getting hard in his jeans.

“This may be the most brilliant thing you’ve ever said,” he says.

This affords Castiel a bright grin from Dean and a happy, “Are you too tired to try it out when we get back to our place?”

Cas arches a brow and says, “Dean, the day that I am too tired for sex with you is the day that hell freezes over. So, no, I am not too tired. In fact, I already have plans to keep you from touching yourself, and you’ll just have to let me decide when the time is right for you to come. And when I finally allow it, you’ll be loose and wet and open and covered in come, just for me.”

A soft whine rumbles in Dean’s chest, and a quick glance tells Castiel that he’s white-knuckling the steering wheel, more ready than he’s ever been to make it back up to their apartment. Dean does his best not too speed over ten miles per hour above the limit, but frankly, Cas doesn’t keep track of if he’s managed it. All the talk of Dean being fucked-out and covered in his own come has Cas hard in his jeans. When he tries to discreetly shift his erection into a less noticeable position, Dean makes another whining sound.

Once parked in the lot beside their apartment building, Castiel kisses Dean, the spark that sets their blood aflame and sends them both into a breathless run inside, up the stairs and into their home without even a pause to taunt Chuck with a public display of affection -- Dean must be eager; it’s a joy in his life to irritate their neighbor.

The door closes and Dean is on him in an instant, hot mouth pressing to Castiel’s and palm sinking down to rub against the hard tent of Castiel’s pants. Cas hums a moan into Dean’s mouth, lets himself savor the pleasure for a moment, and then takes Dean by the wrists and gives him a gentle push back.

At first Dean looks offended, but as soon as he sees the lust-blown expression and hard set of Castiel’s jaw, he goes limper, shoulders lowering, already ready to submit and let Cas try his hand at bringing him to the brink and jerking him away from it. Cas herds them both back into the bedroom, kicking the door shut with the end of his shoe.

“Take off your clothes,” he says, “and lie back on the bed.”

Dean scrambles to obey him, tossing his shoes aside and stripping in quick, eager movements. When Dean slides back on the mattress and rests his head on one of the pillows, Cas can’t help but stand and admire how wonderful he looks nude, very much man with his thick limbs and trail of dark gold hair that sinks from Dean’s navel to the darker thatch of hair below. His cock already leaks a bead of precome at the tip, flushed deep red from nothing but kisses and commands.

Cas, meanwhile, takes his time removing his clothing. He looks Dean in the eye before he takes a seat at the very edge of the mattress and stoops down to untie his shoes and roll his socks off of his feet, tucking them into his discarded footwear. Once down to his jeans and boxer briefs, Cas stands. He knows from the look on Dean’s face that he expects Cas to strip the rest away, but instead Castiel crosses the room to open their closet.

After careful consideration, he selects one of his ties that he’s willing to see wrinkled, and crawls over Dean on the bed.

“Turn onto your stomach,” he says, “and cross your wrists behind your back.”

“Shit,” curses Dean, and he rises up to roll over. Without the support of his hands sinking into the bedding, Dean’s ass is on perfect display, up where Castiel can taste and touch, spread him out wide and make him moan.

Cas loops the tie around Dean’s wrists and secures it with a knot. His own erection chaffs inside his underwear, desperate to take from Dean and be buried deep inside him. Still, before he gives in, he leans over Dean, rubbing a palm over one faintly-freckled shoulder, and asks, “Does that feel okay?”

“Feels perfect,” mumbles Dean, his voice hazy in a way that suggests he may already be drifting into subspace, a state of mind described in more than one of his resources for compiling their list of kinks to try their hands at.

Castiel’s hand trails down Dean’s back, “You look perfect, all tied up for me to play with.”

Dean lets out a soft sigh as Castiel’s hand settles on one of his cheeks. Castiel kneads at the warm pink flesh with his thumb, dips his digits into his crack but not giving Dean the satisfaction. Not yet.

He cups Dean’s balls in his hand, hot and heavy.

“Look at how hard you are already,” Castiel grins. “All hot and ready to get fucked like a good little slut.”

Dean lets out a soft noise, and Castiel removes his hands from Dean’s skin.

“Don’t move,” he instructs. He moves casually toward the nightstand on his side of the bed and retrieves their lube. He squeezes a small dollop into his palm and moves back behind Dean. Without another word, Castiel reaches down and takes Dean’s cock into his hand.

Dean hisses.

“You like it?” asks Castiel. “You like being tied up and face down while I jerk you off?”

Dean’s cock pulses in his hand, and Castiel says, “You can answer.”

“Yes,” Dean pants.

“‘Yes’, what?” Castiel pauses his hand.

Dean can only mumble his elaboration into the bedsheets. Cas returns to his long careful strokes, gradually building up momentum until Dean’s breath quickens and his muscles start to tremble.

“C-Cas,” Dean manages a warning, and just like that Castiel retracts his hand. Dean lets out a shaking pant, whimpers into into the bedspread and curls his toes. Castiel lets him come down, opting now to give himself a squeeze through his underwear.

He lubes up his hand again and teases a fingertip between Dean’s cheeks and over his hole. Dean is still breathing heavily, but he pushes back against Castiel’s touch.

“Look at that,” Castiel hums. “So eager to be all filled up you’ll fuck yourself on my fingers if I let you.”

Dean lets out a little cry when Castiel’s finger finally breaches his entrance. Castiel removes it fully after a moment, and then plunges it back in. A frustrated noise bubbles out of Dean’s chest.

“Does this feel good?” asks Castiel.

“Yeah,” Dean tightens around Castiel’s finger. With just the one finger, Castiel prods Dean’s prostate.

“Oh, fuck.” Dean’s voice breaks.

“Still good?” Castiel wants to be sure.

“Y-yeah,” Dean breathes and pushes back against Castiel’s finger. Castiel wets his lips and presses against that bundle of nerves again. Dean’s spine arches, his hands ball into fists and his toes curl.

Cas withdraws his finger, adds more lube, and slips two fingers back inside him. Dean groans, pushes back against Castiel’s hand again. His movement is limited with his hands bound up, but he tries to rock into the touch as best he can, beads of sweat peeling down his forehead as Dean climbs back up to an orgasm. His breath comes out hot and heavy into the bedding, already damp from his sweat.

“Ah -- s-stop,” Dean says.

“Stop?”

“Gon...come,” Dean slurs.

With a bubble of satisfaction Castiel lets go of Dean, giving an affectionate pat to his ass before drawing back from the bed completely. He pulls off his pants before he rejoins Dean and praises, “That was so good -- you were so good to tell me when you would come.”

The words of praise elicit a soft noise from Dean, a hazy noise, as Dean drifts in and out of their scene and into the calm state of mind that Castiel can lead him to with the application of a little control. Cas pecks kisses to Dean’s ass and the back of his thighs, and rolls his tongue up to where he’s open and slick. Dean shakes before Cas can even reach his opening.

When Castiel huffs out a laugh against the sensitive skin, a long groan rumbles in Dean’s throat.

This is how they continue. Castiel lap in and around Dean until Dean, shaken, tells him again to stop. Cas brings him to the edge, again and again, until Castiel flips Dean over onto his back again. He’s is red in the face and his cheeks are wet from overwhelmed tears. Cas strokes his fingertips over Dean’s sweat-soaked hair and murmurs, “So good for me. I’ll let you come soon. Be patient.”

At last, Castiel pays attention to his own erection, slicking himself with a quick coat of lube before he grasps Dean’s trembling legs and pushes them apart, wide. When he settles between Dean’s thighs and slides home, he can tell Dean is on the verge of breaking.

“Just a little longer, baby,” he says, stroking his fingers over Dean’s arms as he rolls his hips forward, thrusting deep and hard and slow.

And then, right as Cas feels himself hurdle toward orgasm, he says, “You can come, Dean.”

Dean erupts with a silent cry, lips open and his head thrown back. Castiel buries himself deep and gathers Dean up into his arms as his own release comes. He peppers kisses all over Dean’s face and neck as they come down together. Dean’s eyes are heavy-lidded, and Cas can feel from the weight in his limbs that if he doesn’t get up now, he’ll fall asleep right here and Dean won’t get the care he needs.

So, Castiel shifts up, smoothing a hand back through his own damp, tangled hair before he stands. The first thing he does is release Dean from the bonds, but then as Cas makes toward the bedroom door, Dean whines and extends a hand out for him.

Cas turns back and laces their fingers together, kneeling at the side of the bed to give Dean a long kiss. He murmurs, “Shh. I just need to get you some juice and clean you up, okay? Then we can cuddle all you want.”

“Don’...call it cuddling,” Dean says thickly.

Castiel raises his brows, “Why not?”

“Sounds lame,” he answers.

“All right, I’ll get you juice, clean you up, and then we can man-cuddle,” Cas says, and Dean aims a glare at him.

Castiel stumbles out and pulls a glass down from a cabinet, filling it with cold orange juice from the fridge. He brings it back to Dean and makes him sit (not without a whine of complaint and Dean swatting at him) before he passes the glass to him and commands, “You drink that, okay? I’ll be back.”

When he returns again, Dean has downed half the glass and set it aside on their nightstand. Cas comes to sit beside him on the edge of the mattress and works on Dean with a cold washcloth, starting with the come pooled on Dean’s soft abdomen and between his legs. Once he’s satisfied, Cas takes a sip of the juice and climbs over Dean to spoon him from behind, applying lazy kisses to Dean’s hot skin.

“I think that went well,” he murmurs against the shell of Dean’s ear, “Did you like it?”

“Loved it,” Dean says, “Love you. Helluva n’ orgasm, man.”

“You looked amazing,” Cas tells him between little kisses, “did so good. And I love you too.”

“Good,” Dean says, “Tired, though. Can you shut up?”

A surprised chuckle makes it out of Cas’ mouth, right against the skin at the base of Dean’s skull. He replies, “Yes. Let’s sleep.”

 


End file.
